You Have Never Been As Lovely As You Are Now
by daphno
Summary: "Little things edged Cordy closer to motherhood, and it was the little things that kept Angel quiet." Cute baby!Connor, a nice family!fic. Circa 'Provider'.


**Little one-shot. Imagine that the cameras had stayed on at the end of _Provider_ :')**

**I haven't written fan-fic in forever, and never for this fandom, so idk what prompted it but anyway... Enjoy!**

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She'd fallen asleep long before the baby had, but that was okay. They'd lain there in silence, watching her snooze, the baby clucking off the last of his bottle. Angel's hands absently played with his son's feet, whilst his eyes played with Cordy's calmed body.

"You have never been as lovely as you are now," he breathed to no one in particular, but more to the baby than to Cordelia. In response, Connor kicked his legs out, and let out a pierce of giggling at the freedom of his feet. Cordy murmured something and shuffled on the bed, her arm lazily stretching over Connor's stomach to pull him nearer to her. A mother's instinct, yet this didn't make Angel as anxious as it had before.

Just that morning he'd had a conversation with Connor, whilst the baby dozed off his sunlit stroll with Fred, about Darla. Brave Darla, strong Darla, exciting Darla; he'd skipped over the bad parts and given Connor a gleaming slate-wiped-clean vision of his mother. He'd gone on for hours, blabbering long after the baby was deep asleep, reeling off PG-13 stories about the only vampire to give life, and not just take.

But words had little effect on an infant, Angel could see that now. After their chat, he'd handed Connor straight over to Cordy, and the baby had instantly fit into her arms, swaying just the right amount to keep him deep in dreams. When he'd woken, she'd still been cradling him, and Angel had expected him to wail. But he'd glazed his eyes upwards to hers, recognised her soft voice humming to him, felt the surety of her ongoing heart, and been content. He'd reached up a hand to grasp her warmth in the way any newborn would reach for his mother. His mother.

On the bed, Angel wondered if Connor had ever felt Darla's heartbeat, the first in 200 years to hear such a rare sound. Beautiful, and to be cherished - could he tell the difference between hers and Cordy's? Did he remember her at all? His eyes were blue, like hers. His nose was much smaller than Angel's. In fact, Angel wondered what part of Darla this boy hadn't inherited. He laughed, and Connor turned his head at the sound. Opened his mouth wide, and gurgled happily.

Angel wondered what would happen when the baby was old enough to understand the difference between 'mommy' and 'Cordy'. He knew the difference, already, between 'Cordy' and 'Fred'. He knew 'Cordy' meant snuggles and bottles and language he could speak. He knew 'Lorne' meant lullabies and warm milk and new soft toys. But Angel doubted he knew anything of Darla; she was as distant as yesterday for the baby. Angel knew that 'Cordy' and 'mommy' were one and the same for Connor now, and that didn't make him as sad as he felt it ought to.

It felt weird, to think of Cordy in this blasé way as a mother overnight, especially so when she was less than five inches away from him, those five inches being comprised of his gurgling, butter-wouldn't-melt son. _Their _son? Too much, but those would be questions Connor would ask if Angel didn't answer them soon.

But still, there were worse people in the world. Cordelia was smart and sweet, devoted and - well - all the things Angel had never really told her she was. She was the answer to his existential questions - if something happened to Angel or, worse, to Connor during the sunlit hours, then there would be Cordy, less than five inches away. She was as human as Connor was and, in that respect, more a mommy than Darla ever could be.

She'd returned from a walk through the city a few days ago laughing from stories about how her and Connor had made friends at the park, how they'd received an invitation to join 'Mommy and Me' classes at the nearby preschool. Here, she'd quickly flicked her eyes to Angel who, eyes still owned by Connor in the stroller, had only smiled widely. Little things edged Cordy closer to motherhood, and it was the little things like the way Connor gripped her finger tighter than anyone else's that kept Angel quiet. There would be time aplenty for telling Connor about Darla, but for now Cordy was his world.

The baby sneezed, and Cordy jerked awake at the sound. She patted Connor's chest and wiggled her hand in front of his eyes, watching as he burst into giggles and tried to catch her fingers. Angel grabbed Cordy's hand and rested it gently on Connor's stomach, thinking of a way to vocalise his prior musings.

"Cordy - would you -" He drew off. There wasn't an easy way to say what he wanted to, but he didn't want to make an easy mistake. This was more than just friendship he was putting on the line.

Cordelia sat up. "Oh - leave you guys to snuggle? Sure. Father-son-bonding time, I get that."

"No - that's not what I -" But he stopped. She was right, he'd not spent time alone with Connor for a while and there would be plenty of tomorrows to ask her. He nodded, "I bet you want to get on home, too, it's been a long day."

She looked torn to be leaving the baby, but Angel saw that sad little trigger in her eyes that seemed to say _you're not his mother_, and she grinned cheerily. She lowered her face down to the baby and blew raspberries on his cheeks, making him wriggle with laughter as she kissed him over and over. "My little man," she cooed, "is all awake now." She looked as though she never wanted to leave, but hopped off the bed after another series of kisses for Connor.

"And don't think you're getting any kisses," she said coyly to Angel.

He shrugged and, with a smile, bade her goodbye. He nestled his face next to Connor's, feeling the warm damp of Cordelia's affections press onto his own cheek. He breathed in her smell, almost undistinguishable from Connor's. Behind his closed eyes, he saw the long-missed sunlight, and Cordy lounging in the park in a summer dress, Connor sat beside her on the bench, five years old and telling her about his day at school. The sun beat hot and strong and they left hand-in-hand. Back at the hotel, Angel had a photograph on his desk of the two of them in the same park, bright in the noon sun. When clients came to visit, they complimented his wife and son, and Angel didn't correct them, didn't _want _to correct them.

Footsteps preceded Cordy's hurried re-entrance into the room. "One last kiss!" She exclaimed excitedly, and Angel half-raised on the bed, before realising that she did not mean for him. She dived on the bed, covered Connor with her body as she hoisted him up into her arms and planted kisses all over his face.

"What?" She said at Angel's dumb stare, "this is the only guy I'll be kissing for a while, might as well make the most of it, right?" He smiled, and held out his arms for the baby when she left again.

"Who's that?" Angel burbled to the boy, "who is that?" Connor gazed at him cluelessly.

Angel tilted his head on one side: perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if, when Connor was old enough to run and talk, the boy jumped into Cordy's waiting arms and shouted 'mommy'? Angel jiggled the infant and thought that that wouldn't be so very far from perfect, after all. There was time enough for Connor to learn the truth when he was ready, but for now, why not let the three of them be happy - together?

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**The irony being, of course, that when Angel finally asks her the question, Groo turns up and - well - you know the rest... ;)**

**Thanks for reading lovelies, reviews are my life :D**

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*** I could write more, I guess, if people were wanting.  
**


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